An American Marine
by Miss Nae Malfoy
Summary: What happens when Bella Swan takes up a risky offer to live on a military base with her older brother, Emmett, and young nephew? Edward Cullen has an exterior of an unfeeling, cold Sergeant that immediately rejects her attempts at friendship. This is the story of a Marine that suffers from Asperger's Syndrome, and the beautiful girl that sees through the painful mask he created.
1. Eye for an Eye

I played with my nephew's cheeks, oblivious to the impatient traffic of carts behind us in the frozen food's aisle; I couldn't help but fall over him, little Derek was a sweetheart! "What do you want, Reky?" Emmett probably hated that I had such a nauseating pet name for my very first nephew, but it was hard to give the little four year old a mature name like "Derek Charles Swan", it seemed too weird.

"Pizza!" My older brother hadn't made a proper meal for the poor child, but now that I was here they would no longer be mal-nutrition! "Pizza! Pizza!" I rolled my eyes but couldn't help laughing at his antics; his mother was missing out on so much of his life, oh, I _hated _that bitch! Who chose modeling (no matter how beautiful Elizabeth was) over a child, a newborn baby at that? I tried to push her out of my mind for now. "I'm hungry, Aunnie." He was presently lacking "t" in his vocabulary- Emmett spent so much time on base with his soldiers and hardly any real time with his son, which was something that was going to change. Derek was the sole reason Em invited me to live with him this summer, but I was going to teach him how to be a dad along the way.

Once I received my Bachelors in Linguistics and Public Speaking, I rolled over to the East Coast to assist my hectic brother; I was still twenty-two, with no real lead in life. A big shot company was currently processing my application and looking over my credentials from Berkley University, but companies like that took months to years to nail. I was fluent in four different languages, including American Sign Language, and I was well-qualified for translating in large audiences. Something would come up, whether it be in my home state or here by my brother, an opportunity would arise, I just knew it. "What would you like for dinner. Reky?"

He played with the handle bar of the shopping cart before delivering an answer. "Spaghetti." I rolled my eyes again. My dad was half Italian, as was my mother, and the bloodline for red sauces and olive oil seemed to go straight to Derek, the meatball lover. For the last week, all he allowed me to make was lasagnas, spaghetti, Calzones, Fettuccine Alfredos… it seemed Emmett was only capable of ordering saucy trays. I wasn't sure exactly what Elizabeth's ethnicity was, but she was pure bitch to me. God had better have mercy on her, because I would never forgive that woman for the abandonment and confusion Emmett and Derek had to face alone. I hoped she rotted in hell for the rest of eternity. Mom and dad hated her the moment they laid eyes on her, but Emmett and I were fooled by her sweet exterior- six months into the relationship, she was pregnant and he was in love. She refused to marry him, and once she got back on her feet after his birth, she flew back to Atlantic City for some modeling gig and promised to never return.

It was such a sad story for my brother, but Emmett was so loving and kind-hearted that he didn't let it tear him up. He respected her wishes and gave her the space she needed. Personally, i would have snatched her by her hair and threw her into the first passing cab- again, Em was too sweet for his own good when it came to beautiful women, and I was far too brutal and unforgiving when it came to nasty women. Why was he the Marine, and not me? Well, I didn't like guns, or killing people, or working out for more than thirty minutes daily. But I sure did have the attitude, I wore a red _Simpre Fidelis _hoodie for my brother, seeing as no one else in our family was proud of his accomplishment. I was, I was really prideful! I paid in the checkout line and carried a sleeping Derek into the car and buckled him up before making the trip back to my brother's house in his shiny Range Rover, a car that I aspired to own one day. My little Cherokee, Jeep knock off, got me all the way to North Carolina, but I wasn't sure if it would ever make the trip back home. Even after a week of living on base, crossing through the main gates always made me a little… nervous. "Good morning." The Marine tipped his head in my direction before asking for my military ID. I pulled it from my wallet and flashed it before he opened the gate and let me on through. Fort Lejune was beautiful, maybe because of the landscape or the food, I wasn't too sure, but I never wanted to leave this place. And gas prices on base? Beautiful, still.

I was blissfully ignorant to the hard structure of the Marine Corp, but I knew that he was a sergeant of some sort, he had plaques and medals with a certain branch of the Marines everywhere in the three bedroom house, but I never asked him about it. Marines weren't all that for me, even if some of my girlfriends in San Diego swooned when they visited my parents' off-base house, with young Marine recruits visiting on and off in summer, but my brother and dad taught me to set my sights on others and not servicemen. They were mostly unreliable, unavailable, and narrow-minded with women, if Emmett and Charlie were anything to go by. That wasn't what I was looking for. Dinner was whipped up by five-thirty when Em came strolling through the door in his uniform. He kissed my cheek and pulled me into a bear hug before showering Derek with kisses and tummy raspberries. "Someone's in a good mood."

Emmett shrugged. "Commander Lefbreve personally regarded me today about a possible promotion. it's what I've been dying to hear since joining the Brigade, you know." I nodded to feign agreement before setting our plates of food in front of us on the square table. I had only been here for six days, but I was quickly making things familiar and setting routines for daily life for myself. This wasn't going to feel uncomfortable or like a hotel, this was basically my home now.

"I'm happy for you, brother. That means your pay grade goes higher, right?" I teased softly, causing Emmett to shake his head and laugh along. "I don't get you jarheads, doing all of this dangerous shit for little pay. Okay, I get that you're doing it for a good cause and freedom or whatever, but really? You make as much as a teacher, how is that fair? Teachers are in controlled classroom settings and can be close ot family. Marines are spontaneously stationed and worked to the max!" I spoke like I knew what I was talking about.

"If you love what you're doing, it's easy and worth every penny." He shrugged simply, as if that was such a wise answer. I shrugged it off and dropped the subject before it turned into one of those "it's about time you quit the military" arguments he and I periodicaly shared over dinner. My dad was still in the military, also, as a Drill Instructor at Coronado's Basic Training base, my mom had been a nurse for the Marine Corp Logistics Team for years before retiring at 48. My entire close-knitted family consisted of Marines, me being the odd girl out with my occupation. "Some buddies of mine from work are celebrating a birthday tomorrow evening if you'd like to come."

I shrugged my shoulders. "But what about Reky?" I saw his jaw tense at the nickname.

"_Derek _is going to be babysat by Mrs. Morrison from next door." He put special enunciation on his name before burping very loudly and blowing the distasteful air towards me. I cringed away from the awful smell before throwing my napkin at his face.

"How much can you trust the old lady, though? She has the potential to be a doormat Charles Manson right before she snaps!" I tipped my glass of soda in his direction to prove my point.

Emmett sent me a disbelieving look. "She takes care of her three grandsons, very close to Derek's age, and believe me- if Derek was brushed the wrong way, he would make a worldwide fact." I smiled because it was true. He had his father's big mouth and his aunt's stellar attitude. "I've taught him the "stranger danger" precautions already, Bella. I'm not that dense, I know about child safety." Really, I wanted to add, but for the sake of the good mood we were in, I neglected to. It was a rarity when this brother-sister duo got along for more than a few minutes at a time, but if we did see eye to eye, it was a very pleasant conversation and civil evening.

"Okay, Father of the Year." I twirled my finger in the air to dramatize the moment for him. We mostly teased and insulted one another, but occasionally our words turned sour and we got into physical altercations- he was always gentle with me, but I gave it all I had when it came to hitting him. Most women grew fearful when it came to fights with those larger than them, or males in general. The bigger they are, the harder they fall- that was something my father taught me, and I would never forget it.


	2. Ho Hey!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, the series, or anything affiliated to it. It all belongs to Stephanie Meyer. **

**ARTIST OF THE WEK- The Lumineers, the song I used is called "Ho Hey". Real Indie and soooooo "hipster". Seriously, what's so wrong with those hipster kids? They're just trying to **_**re**_**-**_**invent**_**. **

I sat next to Emmett and briskly ordered the local draft before placing the cotton napkin on my bare legs; when my brother explained the celebration, I expected gorgeous babes with catty claws in short dresses- not t-shirt and jean wearing women. "Well, _she's _pretty." One of the uniformed women exclaimed, her ear-length black hair sending me a cold hard look with it's casual, flat appearance. Back where I came from, flashy clothes and bright colors were a must. This was just one difference I was not warned about. "I didn't get the memo that this was a social event." I blushed crimson and ignored the fact that I was on the two girls at the table not belonging to the military, but to a man with a uniform. The other woman, with shoulder-length raven hair and crystal blue eyes, smiled over at me- I took her toothy grin as a message, "don't sweat it", so I didn't.

"Don't pay any attention to her, Isabella." How did these strangers know my name? she was dressed similar to me, but her maxi dress was billowy and looked to touch her- my teal, strapless mini barely covered mid-thigh. I assumed we would be at some ritzy bar for happy hour, not lunchtime at the local family bar &grill. This was how they celebrated in Jacksonville, then? "I'm Alice Masen-Ateara V." It was a funny name, and certainly a mouthful, but I didn't point it out and merely shook the tiny hand she offered.

"Yeah, she's definitely from California." The man across from me spoke as he cracked an elephant peanut and threw the shell on the floor; we were seated at a high table with elevated chairs, but I still felt pretty small compared to the crowd around me. "You could have at least prepped her about NC before you dragged her across the United States, Emmett." The bitchy woman next to him slapped his shoulder, but I couldn't tell if they were together or not by the lack of romanticism present.

"_I don't where I belong,_

_I don't know where I went wrong."_

"I'm Jared, and this my darling fiancé Leah." She snorted at that, but didn't regard me for the rest of the conversation. The two other wives in uniform, one in an electronic-looking one matching Emmett's, and other in a plain one I saw in the most recent battlefield movies, introduced themselves as girlfriends of the other two men at the table. Emily Young and Bree Tanners were both headstrong, smart individuals, and both of them clung to their shaved Marines like white on rice. I couldn't quite place the name to the face, but the names "Embry" and "Paul" were thrown about. As long as I didn't catch their men's wandering eyes, I was sure to be fine. Well, the Leah chick didn't seem to take a shine to me, but she was one girl.

The world wasn't going to end because one girl didn't like me. Our table of ten argued back and forth how we were going to fix the next order, so I put my napkin over the small plate of twice-cooked potatoes appetizers and smiled brightly. "I've got the next round. Two pitchers of Samuel Addams sound fine?" The table nodded mostly, but Leah wrinkled her nose at me.

"I'm not an Addams fan." I pushed the instinct to ask her, "so what?" and shrugged my shoulders softly. "I prefer Budweiser." Yeah, well, I only liked drinking Coronas, but did she see me buying me a six dollar bottle of lemon beer goodness?

"That's fine, I'll grab you a bottle." I really was trying my hardest to ease our interaction and dodge the confrontation bullet I knew she was trying to throw at me. Did she think I was scared of her tough girl exterior? If she did, she was in for a surprise.

"Fantastic!" Her intimation of what I knew was my accent infuriated me to no end, but I grinned at it and snatched my clutch from the table before walking off. I fumed at myself as I waited in line for the bartender, cursing myself for not lashing out at the mean broad. What was her problem, honestly? Had I given her some reason to hate me? Was it my dress, or my high heels? Was it my over-the-top makeup and jewelry? She couldn't blame me for dressing so nice, it wasn't like I could gauge what type of deal this was through a dense brother that only ever wore his uniform or PT garb to functions after work. I enjoyed dressing and creating another persona within me, I liked looking nice in public. At home it was sweat pants city, but in the real world only sharply-dressed people were taken serious. If I was a man, I would wear suits.

"Two pitchers Samuel Addams and one bottle of Budweiser, please." The bartender directed me to the cashier next to him, which belonged to another line of people. I gave him an incredulous look before taking a deep breath and leaned on the granite counter. Flirting usually got me things I couldn't get in San Diego. "Please, can you put it on a tab for me? I'm at that table over there." I pointed at our table, but he was silent in his rejection and turned to help the customer behind me. "Seriously?" I growled, but turned around and got in the next line. Why was life so against me right now? First the stupid Leah girl hating me right off the bat, and now the bartender wasting my time! I muttered under my breath, considering all of the different ways I could kill him in my mind. Why couldn't I make a tab and pay it all once we were ready to leave for the night? I should have just called a waitress over and ordered from her, rather than volunteer to pay for the round by myself and buy it manually. I shifted from foot to foot, wincing slightly in pain when the arch of my foot began to ache.

"Do those shoes hurt you?" I jumped at how close the voice was behind me; swiveled on my heel and faced the stranger, but there was no apology or bashfulness to his face for startling me. Men and boys alike had initiated random conversations with me, but none of them had ever looked like this guy! He was easily over six feet tall, and one of my hands trembled at the fact that his skin was so flawless and an alabaster hue that wasn't very common in San Diego. My eyes did a two second rake over his body- big muscles in the right place, who would not gape like a foolish chit? His green eyes caught me staring, but there was no indication other than a light flush to his cheeks that he registered my train of thought. My mouth suddenly ran dry and I skirted my eyes away from his in embarrassment.

"_I don't think you're right for him,_

_Look at what might have been._

_If you'd taken that bus to Chinatown_

_I'd be standing on Canal and Bowery-_

_She'd be standing next to me."_

What had he asked me again? My black peep-toe pumps took my interest as my eyes were glued to the floor. Oh, right, shoe pain! "Um… no, not really. But I've done a lot of walking today." Having no time in between, I had to get ready at ten in the morning and stay in that shape all day- with a long-dreaded dentist appointment for Derek, final paperwork to sign at Fort Jejune, Em's dry-cleaning waiting to be picked up across town, Derek to feed and bathe before dropping him off at Mrs. Morrison's house, I didn't have one spare moment to waste with flat shoes and casual clothing. He nodded, but showed no true emotion. It was as if he were truly curious about the welfare of my feet instead of trying to hit on me. "I'm Isabella Swan, but my friends call me Bella, new in town. You?"

I held out my hand to him, but he only looked at it with mild curiosity. My palms were sweaty and I was a nervous wreck; who knew one guy could have that kind of affect on me? "My name is Master Sergeant Edward Cullen. I am not new to this town." The first flicker of emotion went over his face when I retracted my hand in a lame effort to salvage my dignity; his words were proper and the meaning was always literal in his phrases. "Did you want me to shake your hand, Isabella Swan?"

He looked so confused, it was painful just to watch. "Sure, if you want to…?" I pushed an awkward smile out and shook his soft hand, wherein he held mine so softly and took care to position it correctly in his hand- the weird sexual tension and his robotic responses made the situation so ironic and funny that I had to laugh. It was the only light subject all day, and I appreciated the minor break from reality this conversation with Edwrad Cullen gave me.

"Why are you laughing?" It was a valid enough question, but he sounded genuinely inquisitive. It felt more like he was asking, "what is laughter, and why are you partaking in it?", was there a hint of innocence inside of "Master Sergeant"?

"Because this is just… kind of funny." I shrugged with another chuckle. "Why are you smiling, huh?" It was the first smile of our interaction, and it was beautiful- his straight teeth were Colgate white and there was a pleasant raise of eyebrows and more expansion of his tight cheekbone skin. His folded arms dispersed when one hand moved from his cheek to his parted lips; the imagery of his self-discovery was almost erotic to me.

"I am smiling like an idiot." He said the expression as if he was a mere child repeating what he heard from two adults talking in another room. Another giggle left my mouth at the thought of a grown man like him barely smiling for the first time in his life at this very moment. Marines were trained to be ruthless, always ready for war, and unfeeling to the common human emotions that could keep them from sticking to their protocol- but was this really his first awareness of a smile? Out of nowhere, his warm hand shot out and touched my face; I flinched away out of sheer surprise, but stayed still as his hand went over my cheekbones and settled at my lips. It was half mesmerizing, half unsettling. It was almost like he had no awareness of another's private area and if he did realize mt outward uneasiness, he sure didn't show it. Did he know how to show embarrassment, aside from that cute but minuscule red-faced blush? When I tried to move away from his random fingers, he stilled me with two hands- I instinctively pushed away from him in a small struggle for what I thought was my safety. One moment, he's shy white knight and the next he's some pushy, touchy-feely guy?

It wasn't until the teller called for the next customer that he let go of with a sudden realization. "You didn't like me touching you. I- I… I do, I mean that…" But then his face morphed into this evil man snarl and he turned quickly on his foot and stormed out of the restaurant, slamming the swinging front doors with a lot more force than he used with me.


	3. Life Is Too Young

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, the series, or anything affiliated to it. It all belongs to Stephanie Meyer. **

**So, NSA is in my other story and the woman I mention is indeed Rosalie Hale-Cullen from my "Somebody To Thrill". I just love the concept of the military having a helping program like this.**

**REVIEW. FAVORITE. ALERT. PM ME with any questions or complaints. **

I considered running after him, or even calling his name but then I was next in line and I figured… well, hell, if I already scared him off what was the point of making it worse? I tried to shake off the hurt from my mind and ordered our drinks accordingly, and then the snotty cashier asked for an ID. What, she thought I was just going to walk in and order shit without an ID? I flashed it to her and then angrily stuffed in back in my wallet. She rung me up and handed me a ticket. "What's this?" I didn't mean to be such a bitch to her, but if management had considered their customers and our needs, I wouldn't have had to stand in such a long line for a measly ticket!

"It's your ticket." The tiny girl behind the outdated cash register snapped back at me. "Take it to the bartender and he'll get your drinks." I took a deep breath and snatched the paper from her hands, stomping over to the bartender with the scrap of paper. A very serious part of me considered shoving it in his mouth and preparing my own drinks, but I doubted that would end every well, so I politely handed it to him and waited for my order to be made. What was up with that Edward guy, like really? One minute he was friendly and happy, the next he was scared and got offended by the slightest movement!

Before he handed me the drinks, he gave me a long, disconcerting look. "ID, please?" What? I wanted to scream at him and then get onto of the bar counter and smash all of their bottles of alcohol, but instead found patience within me. If I wasn't over twenty-one, how the hell did the cashier let me buy them in the first place? I was beginning to hate Jacksonville, or at least this bar and grill. I muttered profanities under my breath and slammed the ID onto the counter with practiced dramatics. Were these people serious? For a pitcher of brew and one single beer? They were acting like I was trying to buy out their liquor cabinet, or something! I looked so dazed and ugly in my ID, and all of these people were probably trying to get a kick out of it. "From California? What are you doing in these parts?"

"What are you, the ID cop around here?" I replied spitefully before snatching the plastic card back up. "Yes, I'm from San Diego. I'm here with my brother, he's a Marine." The vice in my voice left, but now there was cockiness. "Lejeune Base, wanna meet him?" There was little kindness in my voice, I was just trying to get my shit and get out of here. Without another word, he served my drinks and sent me on my way. "I'm back." I announced sourly. I was going to seriously consider Emmett's next invitation.

Leah eyed me with heavy disdain, hidden smartly behind her false smile. "What took so long? Did you brew the beer yourself?" She tried to play it off as a joke, but in my angered state, I took it as much more. What was her problem with me? Was it because I was dressed too nice, or was it because I was from California? I didn't get it, I had done nothing to her.

"No." I replied through gritted teeth. "You know girls like me," I thrust my slim shoulders in nonchalance as I sat down next to my burly brother, "I had to take the bartender behind the cellar barrels and fuck him for the drinks. Sorry, it took a little longer than it usually does." I could feel my brother's heated glare on me, but this wasn't about him- this was about the smart-mouthed little bitch across from me. We kept eye contact, even though her fiancé's mouth hung open like a broken garage door. Her beady little eyes roamed over my face for a few seconds before she snatched her beer from my platter. I could tell she wanted to spit out remarks about my "whoring around", but these people she had to work with on a daily basis. They had to maintain a semi-professional atmosphere, even outside of work. Even though it was to my advantage, and I could say whatever I pleased to her right now, I kept my mouth shut about it.

My rude comment made things a little tense for the rest of the night. And although I felt really bad for ruining my brother's night, I felt good about sticking it to her. I mean, seriously- these Marine guys hadn't said worse during locker room talk? What, just because it came from a girl that wasn't in the military? I was sort of expecting high fives and catcalls, not the weird vibe everybody was throwing off. Halfway through our pitcher, Jared and Leah had to leave with an emergency with their babysitter, relieving some of the awkwardness around us. "Dude, you've got some balls on you." Embry chuckled softly as he sipped from his dark beer. Emmett hissed at the First Class Private across from him, probably for calling me "dude".

I didn't see any problem with that, it actually made everything feel a little friendlier. "I don't know what you're talking about." I feigned ignorance and spluttered on my mouthful of beer when he began to mimic my words from earlier. "Okay, so I stepped over some lines back there."

"_Some _lines?" Emily young snorted at me, _such a lady_. "Bella, you've just made a very big enemy." That didn't phase me any- as a freshmen, I got my ass kicked every Friday by some of the local "bad girls" at my high school. I always had high fashion, wore expensive clothing, and had a pretty decent car by my sophomore year; I was bound to get picked on for the advantages a nice life brought, but I rode it out. Halfway through the year, I learned to fight back and never let myself get cornered like that again. Life lessons, really.

"I went to school with three big Leahs, it doesn't bother me." Emmett shifted around in his chair, as if he were too uncomfortable for words. "But sorry for my mouth. Sometimes it gets the best of me." The three couples shrugged in unison and made nonplussed comments to quell my uneasiness. "Seriously… I don't know what made me say that."

"It's the Californian fever, we get it." Emily Young teased me listlessly. I liked her, with her long, braided hair and the distinguished marks on her face. Her boyfriend, Embry, sat beside her and held onto her hand like it was running away from him. Though he was short and a little lean for Emily's musucalr self, I found the couple to be oddly… normal to me. Alice and Quil were picturesque husband nad wife, with white teeth and beautiful hair- too perfect, too surreal.

"Just wait until she meets Black- he'll give her a run for her money." Paul, a super tall dark-skinned guy to Bree's right, shouted suddenly. Black, who the heck was he? I turned sharply on Emmett, challenging him with my eyes. Why the hell hadn't he forewarned me about all of this? He knew how Leah was, he could have warned me! And why hadn't he explained some of his friends to me? I hated how much of strangers we were, I wanted longtime friends just like he did! Before North Carolina, I had a friend in San Diego, Rosalie Hale, but she was partners with this other big shot and their firm was prospering. We no longer had buddy-buddy time when she finished law school passed the Bar. It was all about work after that.

"Who's that?" I pressed lightly. Was he a sexy Marine like I saw on TV? My mind went back to the man I met earlier. He was sure good-looking, and I could just imagine him in nothing but Calvin Klein undies… with melted chocolate running down his abs, and a cold cup of Kool-Aide in his hand to wash down the taste. Okay, so I never licked chocolate off of a dude's body before, but I imagined a replenishing cup of strawberry Kool-Aide was needed afterward.

"Don't listen to my boyfriend," Bree dismissed her man with a wave of her short-finger nailed hand, "you definitely do not want to meet Black. He's nauseatingly charming- cheesy and all." She rolled her dull, blue eyes. I liked her auburn-ish hair, tied back in a low pony tail to sever all ties to feminism. "But he has a quick tongue. Always insulting and coming up withy cheeky remarks. Leah has made very real death threats on his life, but she's never actually acted on any of them." Death threats? Either Leah was a easily prickly, or this Mr. Black was a real prick with his silver tongue.

"No," Paul corrected her, "Leah has charged at him with a Swiss army knife before. Good thing he's quick, I was sure there was going to be a lot of blood and a law suit following." He was serious, but so casual about the fact that this crazy broad was ready to attack another soldier over spilled milk. "But he did go pretty far- further than even you, Bella. He called her a _crazy bitch_." It wasn't a lie, but I suppose that no man was capable of making a valid enough reason for calling a woman a bitch.

"The whole "bitch" part wasn't even the worst blow to her." Emily shook her head disapprovingly. "The only thing that bothers Leah more than being called "crazy", is wrinkles. Seriously." I had to laugh at the irony of Leah's do's and don'ts. I found myself curious about this military base and the people that inhabited it.

"So, uh- I ran into this guy when I was getting the beer. His name is Edward Cullen?" I tried to keep my tone casual, not wanting to let them know I was desperately curious about this strange man that ran out on me. "We made some friendly conversation, but there was just something about him. I don't know." Was that too much information for them? Emily opened nad closed her mouth a few times, obviously considering her words before she pulled a Bella and blurted the first thing that came ot her mind. Alice intervened first.

"Well, Bella, Sergeant Cullen is a different kind of person. A…" her small smile was kind-hearted and genuine, not something I ever really saw a lot of, "very special guy, he's very unique. Isn't that right, guys?" She gestured to the rest of the table before clapping her hands together. "So, Quill and I were considering applying this new "splatter paint" technique with the garage walls-" Why did she change the subject so quickly? Just earlier she was trying to explain the whole soap opera love triangles happening lately, why wasn't Edward Cullen on that list? I mean, not that I wanted him to be a part of a love triangle.

"Well, can you elaborate a little? I mean, he seemed like a nice guy when I met him. Definitely special." I knew I was smiling like an idiot and this overstepped blind curiosity, now I was prying- okay, sue me! I wanted to know more about this Edward Cullen. He was mysterious and oh so gorgeous, why not?

"Why are you so interested, Bella?" Emmett snapped before slamming his empty beer glass down.

"Uh, because he happens to be one of the few military-issued people in this city that have made me feel welcome?" I really didn't mean to offend anyone else at the table, but it was the truth- while they were civil and honest enough with me, we weren't friendly or overly-kind to each other. They made it obvious that Leah was their friend and I was the new girl, their alliance was set in stone and I was just the little sister of their co-worker. But that didn't bother me, I got that people had to chose sides sometimes; what bothered me was Emmett's funky ass attitude over it. Did he really expect me to not venture out and make more friends, especially the ones that didn't involve Leah and her inner circle?

"I've done everything to make you feel at home. God, what the fuck else would you like me to do? Roll out the welcoming mat and shower you with golden sprinkles as you walk through the door every day?" Where was this coming from? Emmett's mouth was set in a stern line as he looked forward, not even sparing me a sideways glance. Was Edward and enemy of some sort? I didn't get it.

I sent him an incredulous look, ignoring the tenants of our table. "What's your problem, Emmett? I'm just curious about this guy, what's the deal?" Maybe Leah was rubbing off on him or something. These people probably never wanted to see me again, I was just the little dysfunctional California girl they heard too much of.

"You really wanna know what's the problem? Firstly, you mouth off to one of the most important members of my team. Then you make flirty conversation with one of my superiors! That's the _deal_, Bella. So drop it, okay? I don't want to hear about him again." His sharp eyes pierced right through my tough girl façade, darting right through my oversensitive walls of fake nonchalance. I nodded like a good girl and dropped my gaze for the rest of the evening. I understood where he was coming from on this, with me mouthing off and then supposedly "flirting"- but maybe when we got home I could help him understand how things really went. Before we left that night, Alice offered me a starting job with a company she worked in on base, NSA, which was an assistance program started by a wife of a military man, and was now spread across the country. It was a temporary aide to families of soldiers and Marines, wherein the government assistance was not yet available or put into order. From rooming to food to therapy, NSA made sure their families were taken care of until Uncle Sam as he promised and held his end of the bargain. she promised to run my resume though and assured me the background checks and piss tests would be free of charge and easy, and it was.

It was only a volunteer position, but it was one of the best volunteer jobs I could have landed. I would have excellent recommendation letters, a good answer when potential employers asked what I did with my time when not working, and Alice got her wish- she was finally going to get a friend that owned a pair of Christian Louboutins.

**Two Weeks Later-**

Emmett dropped the Edward conversation after a few heated brawls between us after awhile; how was I supposed to know this guy was my brother's superior, and that Emmett would find it disrespectful that I took interest in him? And since the last time we met, Alice kept me fine company on base and even went out of her way to make me feel welcome. She offered half of her office, half of her hamburgers or salads at lunch, and half of her winnings every afternoon when she bought another bunk lottery ticket. I could see she was trying hard to make us best friends, but I still felt like a stranger in this place. All of the women and men in uniform looked angry and concentrated when I passed them on base, it was sort of disconcerting. "Hey, so Mr. Khancin wants to see you in his office." Alice smiled brightly at me, her swinging NSA tag clipped securely to her necklace ID card. Mr. Khancin was a quant man in his early forties, with prim, tied back locks and trimmed facial hair and a small curl to his mustache. It was odd when I actually saw a long-haired, unshaven male face these days, not that I ever went for the rugged-man look.

I exited her- _our _office, and knocked on Mr. Khancin's door before slowly entering. His space reflected him- from clean, crème carpets to the po0lished cedar desks- everything was neat ad dusted. Unlike Alice's, which had framed pictures and nick knacks from her worldly travels with her husband, along with a bookcase full of casual reading and unfilled papers she sifted through occasionally. I had a tiny nook in the room, with an average-looking oak desk and a small lamp with a floral print design. All I did was translate papers from a foreign language to English, and English into another foreign language; I didn't need to bring my own file cabinet and coffee machine. "Good morning, Bella B!" It wasn't morning, it was almost two o clock in the afternoon! But he wouldn't know that, seeing as he didn't start work until almost noon. I was here, seven in the morning, with Alice in tow everyday. Why couldn't he just stick to "Miss Swan"?

"Good afternoon, sir." I returned the greeting with a fair reply. Although he was both eccentric and a closet gay, I respected this man for his work and the ability to keep it all together. NSA was a program primarily based on the West Coast and it wasn't easy for him to build his own branch out here, but he did it. NSA was not but fourteen years old, but it worked wonders for people. "You asked to see me, sir?"

"Please, Bella, you're not a soldier. Call me Khan-Khan, for cool cat." I smothered a nasty chuckle at his _slick _words and nodded in agreement. Did he realize that Marines did not like to be called a "soldier"? In his eyes, he was a cool cat. From those dreaded penny loafers to his tied outside of his dress shirt, I had to wonder where he kept his shoulder-padded dinner jackets and neon colored leg warmers. This guy was stuck in the bad part of the eighties. "Sit down, those shoes look painful." My mother always said that flat shoes were for quitters, and I tried to stick true to that statement. I looked down at my nude pumps and offered a tiny shrug, as if they weren't killing the arch of my feet all morning as I bounced around the two story office in search of the right printing papers, but sat down anyway. If a Jacksonville resident offered you something, you took it, I came to learn. They were very pushy people about their hospitality.

"Oh, they're fine." I brushed it off and folded my hands in the lap of my dress pants. "You look very nice today, Mr. Khan-Khan." That was possibly the silliest thing I had ever said! I improvised with the new nickname. We weren't friends, we weren't family, and we weren't really even co-workers. Nicknames were _not _okay for us!

"Why, thank you! I take pride in fashion, as do you." He began to toot his own horn as he went on about "keeping the trends of my own day alive today" until I sent him a very subtle look of impatience. I had to leave at four o clock to pick up my nephew from daycare, and I still had to pack up my laptop and chargers and pick up my phone before heading out of the door. "Anyway, I just wanted to call you in and personally congratulate you on starting here. A-bad is the perfect mentor to have, I can assure you! You will know this place in no time at all, and in a few months when I have my quarterly meeting with the other managers and supervisors, you may even earn yourself a paying job here." While I loved NSA and translating simple documents for a good cause, I wasn't quite sure if I was ready to make any real commitment to this place. This was more of a favor to a new friend, less of a serious job venture.

"Oh, well, thank you." I replied awkwardly. "I appreciate you accepting my application."

He blew a small burst of air out of his puckered lips. "Are you kidding me? A beautiful young woman, willing to work for me for free? How was I supposed to say no?" I laughed with him on that one, but refused to give any kind of reply. I wasn't comfortable being this close to him alone, even if I had the strong belief that he was gay. It was almost like he wanted more out of this, but didn't know how to go about it. Well, I hoped he never figured it out. "That meeting is in December, after the holidays. Keep up the good work and that postion is as good as yours."

I smiled for the affect, but started to falter. "Excuse me if I overstepa counbrei, but what sort of position are you considering me for?" Did he even know what kind of work I was doing right now? My minor effort put into this company was so insignificant, nothing was life-altering or that grandeur.

"An office assistant, of course. Within a few years, or even twelve months, you could find yourself in a position of A-bad's. Depends on your progress and work ethic." I didn't mean to feel so let down or look so disappointed, but I was a UC Berkley graduate, second only to the valedictorian of my graduating class- I majored in Linguistics and Public speaking, for Christ's sake! Did those qualifications reside within a measly office assistant?

"That's great, thank you for your time." I shook his cold hand and turned to leave; why was I even considering taking a small job like this when I had a big company like Roswell reviewing my application at the moment? Sure, even had to start somewhere, but would this be a smart move for my career? If something better came along, I couldn't just jump ship and ruin my reputation on base, but opportunities came and went like it was nothing these days. I tried my hardest not to over think it- his quarterly reports weren't due until after Christmas, that was a good three or four months away.

"Oh, wait! Here, I wanted to give you this!" He got up and walked around his desk to me, placing a small, square clipped-on ID card with a black lanyard attached in my hand. "There, you are officially one of us." I feigned a smile as I peered down at my picture- my smile was a little crooked and my eyes were kind of bloodshot the day they took this of me.

"Thank you." I said before dashing out and darted into the restroom for a breather.

I was too young for this.


	4. She Keeps Me Warm

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, the series, or anything affiliated to it. It all belongs to Stephanie Meyer. **

"Hey, Bella, I need you to take this list and get it signed by a sergeant. Can you do that for me?" I nodded eagerly; I would do anything to get out of our little office. "Okay, he's in the third bungalow to the right, room E4. There's a head Sergeant to every room, he'll be dressed in khaki." Alice stapled a few papers together and handed them to me. "He's kind of a stickler about how he does things, so if he gives you too much trouble about it, just come back and I can try to get in touch with him through email." I nodded slowly and clipped on my ID badge before stepping out into the crisp air of North Carolina. When I saw soldiers and Marines I continuously thought of the wives, girlfriends, and children they were constantly going without. Besides the families that lived on base, how did these military beings go without family love for so long? No hug, comfortable smiles, dearly kisses? Being without all that wasn't even a life.

I arrived outside of the building and knocked lightly before a uniformed Marine brusquely opened the door. "Identification." He was brisk and clean cut, but I minded the rudeness and flashed him my ID before he officially let me in. There were a few desks, with guns and cleaning rags, and some jarheads going at a task I didn't recognize. They steadily ignored me and did as they were, even though I was in a slim pencil skirt and cleavaged top; I wasn't trying anything racy, but I was sort of used to men ogling me. Their respectful attitude was so refreshing to me. The short, bulky soldier sent me an assertive look. "Who are you here to see today, M'am?"

"Uh, your sergeant?" I asked, feeling so out of place here. He nodded again and knocked on the door of what appeared to be a private office. On the window pane of the wooden door, it only read "Unit 3, Platoon 5151". After a faint answer, the unnamed Marine stepped inside and shut the door on my face; I nodded to no one in particular and waited until the man appeared once more.

"You've been cleared, close the door when you step in." And he nodded again. Everything was so clerical, so goddamn clean-cut. Imagine if these guys took one step into my closet? They'd probably overdose on silliness at the sheer messiness and disorganization of that black hole. I did as the uniformed man said and shut it right behind me, trying to be quiet as possible. It didn't stir the dressed gentleman sitting at his desk, writing feverishly on a piece of expensive-looking paper, not even glancing up at me as I addressed him.

"Sir, I…" I started off quietly but cleared my throat and began again. "Sir, I would appreciate it if you would sign these letters. It needs your approval before we can send them through the-"

"I do not wish to be disturbed at this moment." He replied briskly and picked up another pen before working at his writing once more. The Marine still hadn't looked up yet, but I recognized him almost immediately as he spoke. For such a strong-looking man, his voice was soft in context and stern in application. When I wasn't immediately scared off by his tactic, he pulled another trick from his sleeve. "You can refer to Gunnery Sergeant Adams on the other side of that door, M'am." though I didn't quite remember his name, I knew he was the guy from the bar from weeks back. His well-kept, shiny hair and his broad stature settled with a good looking face was not exactly the per usual around here. I would be able to spot him in a crowded room.

"But I need the First Sergeant's signature." I insisted before thinking, not considering how inappropriate it was to speak out of turn with someone so high up in the ranks as him.

But when he looked up, almost as if he were going to chew me a new ass, his green eyes lit up a certain color that nearly sent my panties flying to China. "Isabella Swan, but your friends call you Bella." He almost recited to me.

I smiled appreciatively and nodded, having not one thought that he'd actually remember me from our brief encounter. "Yes, that is me." I'm sure I looked like a real buffoon for smiling all big and dorky, but it was to alien to have a man of his power and standing to be so polite and enthralled with me. "You remembered." I added offlandishly. _He remembered_, my mind squealed like a real thirteen year old schoolgirl.

"How was I suppose to forget?" The sexy quirk of lips he showcased seemed so different from the other guys on and off this Marine base. He wasn't cocky and egotistical, that was just his form of a smile. Akin to my brother's symptom, the Marines replaced every free will and state of being with discipline and stern attitude. I was lucky that Emmett found anything funny these days, he became more and more of a robot as his time in the service continued. The name suddenly came to me!

"Edward." I said with another big smile and crossed my legs nervously under his gaze. "First Sergeant Edward Cullen, isn't it?" Where in the world did this sudden shyness come from? I was usually outspoken and knew how to handle new things as they came, but Edward was just so different. I was emotionally and sexually attracted to him in a way that I had never been pulled to another in my entire life. "It's a pleasure to meet you once more, Sir."

"No!" He barked rather loudly, but with a simply blasé expression on his face, "call me Edward. You aren't a Marine, I hold no rank over you." When he said that, an unnecessary lump began to form in my throat. He really thought I was something, didn't he? My own big brother didn't even talk to me like that! Em tried to exercise his nonexistent power over me constantly, lately making me regret ever moving out here to the east coast. It was nice and refreshing to be talked to like an equal, rather than someone easily dispensed when the time so came! Thinking about Emmett and how absolutely pissed he would be about this encounter made my blood boil. Here I was with the sweetest guy on the planet, and Emmett _couldn't _and _wouldn't _be happy for me? I mean, it wasn't like me and the guy were going to run off and have a shotgun weeding or anything. I simply liked Edward, _a lot_. "Bella…" he at first seemed slouched and awkward, but seemed to instantly get a hold himself- Edward straightened up and brought his eyes to mine, "would you like to accompany on lunch?"

My cheeks flushed tomato red, and the just the way he said make goose pimples break out along my skin. "Umm," It wasn't thought I even doubted having lunch with Edward would be the most exciting thing id do all year, but was I really ready to began a sort of friendship with this man? He obviously seemed very interested in me, and I was too sexually pulled to him for appropriate words. "I would love to." My brain shut off as I said those words, fully giving in to what ]my body wanted to do rather than anything else.


End file.
